Deborah Camp (2 page)

“How can that be? I wasn’t even informed of it!”

“Mrs. Hastings, folks come here from all over to get a divorce because they can’t get one anywhere else. It’s big business in Guthrie. All you have to do is reside here for ninety days and you can obtain a divorce on any reasonable grounds. Anywhere else in the country, you have to prove infidelity or insanity to get shed of your spouse.”

“Is nothing sacred? We’re talking about holy matrimony! That a man can march into the Guthrie courthouse and obtain a divorce without even a
whisper
to his wife —!”

“Women can do that same thing and do. In fact, most of the divorce cases I handle are women divorcing their husbands.”

“It’s unholy. It is
wrong!
Charles must not have been in his right mind. He must have been intoxicated or temporarily befuddled.”

“Befuddled?”

She tossed the documents onto his desk. “I don’t know!” She heaved a sigh. “I only know that this is not in his character. Once I talk to this woman he married and she understands that Charles came back to us and that the land was meant for us, then she will surely see that —.” She stopped, realizing he wasn’t agreeing with her. “Why are you shaking your head?”

“I advise that you not seek out Luna.”

“Why not? Speaking to the woman who supposedly married my husband is quite logical.”

“I agree and that will be one of my duties. I will speak to her on your behalf. You don’t want to barge into this misinformed or say something that might give her the upper hand. I’ll gather all the facts first. Then we can discuss what we want her to know.”

“We?” She tipped her head to one side. “The only ‘we’ in my life includes my son.”

“Listen to me, Mrs. Hastings …” He stood and came around the desk to sit in the chair next to hers. The simple action took some of the starch from her spine and made her eyes burn with unshed tears. “You’re human, and it is only human nature that your head is spinning and your thoughts are in a whirl. I have some experience with these kinds of cases and I would consider it an honor if you allowed me to assist you.”

“You mean there have been other women in my situation? Women who arrive here to discover that they are divorced and stripped of their inheritance?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. What is unusual about your case is that Charles Hastings returned to you in St. Louis. If his marriage to Luna had failed, he could have divorced her or even petitioned the court for an annulment before taking up his union with you again.”

“And the land would be mine, free and clear, in that case.”

“Not exactly.” He squinted his left eye in a half-hearted wince. “He would not legally be married to you. However, your son would be his heir if he had divorced Luna.”

“You keep calling her by her first name. Do you know her well?”

“I do. She had only been in Guthrie a few months before I arrived here.”

“You weren’t raised in these parts?”

“No, ma’am. I’m from Kentucky. I joined this law firm a little over a year ago.”

“You never met my – Charles.”

An outer door opened and closed. He stood and leaned forward to peer around the door facing. “Ah, hello, Bertha. That’s Mr. Oliver Hastings and this is his mother. Mrs. Jennie Hastings, allow me to introduce you to my partner’s better half.”

A short, plump woman with blond curls piled high on her head entered the room. She pumped Jennie’s hand as Jennie rose to her feet. “Pleased to meet you. You can call me Bert. Everyone does – except for Zach.” She cast him a good-humored grin. “He likes to call me Bertha because I made the mistake of telling him that I didn’t like my name.” She looked back to where Oliver sat. “Your little fella is as cute as a speckled pup.”

“Ah … why, thank you. I’m sorry to hear that your husband is ill.”

“Oh, he will be fine. He ate a piece of his mama’s rhubarb pie Sunday after church and it always churns up his stomach.”

“You didn’t need to come in today, Bertha,” Zach said, resting an arm around the woman’s shoulders. He towered over her.

“I have court documents to finish up so that you can file them in time. I sure can’t do that by waiting on Adam Polk, hand and foot.” She reached out to pat Jennie’s arm. “I’ll keep an eye on your little pup while you finish your business in here with Zach.” With that, she bustled out, her dark green skirts swirling behind her. She closed the outer door. Jennie could hear her talking merrily to Oliver.

Oliver … Jennie’s knees trembled. Afraid they might give out, she sat in the chair again. The full impact of what had transpired in the past few minutes slammed into her. She felt breathless and faint.

“Mrs. Hastings?” Zach’s voice came to her, but he sounded as if he were down in a well. The next thing she knew, a glass of water was pressed against her palm. She curled her fingers around it.

“Drink some water,” Zach said from far, far away. “Please. One sip. That’s it. One more. Good. The color has returned to your cheeks.”

His face swam into view. He squatted in front of her, his blue eyes fixed on her, worry lines etched on his forehead.

Jennie took another sip of water before she trusted her voice. “I’m fine. I – it’s all rather overwhelming.”

“Of course. It’s a lot to take in.” He stood and sat in the chair beside her again. “Where are you staying, Mrs. Hastings? Have you checked into a hotel?”

“Yes, the Harrison Hotel.” She leaned forward and set the glass on the edge of his desk.

“I think you should take your little boy and go to the hotel, have a good meal, and let this news settle in. Sleep on it. Then come see me tomorrow and we will decide what to do about it.”

“So there is a remedy? I can claim the land?”

“I need to consult with Mr. Polk. Two heads are better than one. We will have some answers for you tomorrow. I promise.”

The wringing of her hands captured his attention and he reached out and gathered them into his. In any other circumstance and with any other man, she would have drawn away from him and punished him for his forwardness with a sharp reprimand, but she found his touch soothing and respectful.

“You have every right to be upset. You probably feel as if you don’t have a friend on this earth right now, but that’s not true. Mr. Polk and I are your lawyers. We are here for you, Mrs. Hastings. You’re not alone.” He released her hands slowly, his warm fingertips gliding across her cool skin.

Oliver’s laughter floated to her, bringing her back to her senses. Jennie stood and willed her knees to stop shaking. “Thank you. Shall I come around in the morning or afternoon?”

“I will be back from court by two o’clock.”

“Then I shall see you at two, Mr. Warner.” She turned and went to collect her son.

Standing by the window, Zach watched Jennie Hastings cross the street with her son. She held the boy’s hand and matched his shorter steps, glancing down at him from time to time. She was a slim pillar of womanhood dressed in royal blue. A simple band of blue held her hair back from her face; raven hair, washed by sunlight.

She was a beauty, and he had seen his share of beautiful women come through Guthrie. Her flawless, porcelain skin, silvery gray eyes, and ebony hair were striking. Toss in those dimples that buried into her cheeks whenever she smiled, and to Zach’s thinking, she was a woman who could melt the coldest heart.

“She was fit to be tied, wasn’t she?” Bertha asked from behind him.

“That, she was,” he said, tearing his gaze from Jennie’s alluring figure.

“Adam told me about her husband divorcing her and all. She didn’t know anything about him and Luna?”

“No. Nothing”

“Bless her heart. I could eat that little boy of hers up with a spoon, I could.”

“You need some grandchildren, Bertha.” He sat in the office chair, mulling over what kind of man would turn his back on Jennie Hastings to take up with Luna.

“I’m too young for grandchildren! Why, my eldest is only eighteen! I’m a good mind to hit you in the noggin with one of these big, old law books!” She lifted a volume off his desk to demonstrate.

He ducked playfully. “She wants to meet Luna, but I talked her out of that for now.”

“You don’t think it’s right for her to meet up with Luna?”

“No, I don’t. Luna can be as sweet as molasses or as mean as a rattler, depending on her mood. I don’t want Mrs. Hastings to meet Luna on a day when Luna is showing her fangs. I need to talk to Adam about this case. It bothers me that Charles Hastings returned to his former wife without a word to her about what he’d done.”

“He probably came to his senses and realized he had better hightail back to his sweet, loving wife and innocent, little son.”

“One would hope …” He rubbed his clean-shaven chin as the vision of Jennie Hastings distracted him again. “She certainly is easy on the eyes. She has a refined beauty, whereas Luna has …”

“… experience,” Bertha piped up with a wrinkled nose.

Zach chuckled. “Luna has been around the maypole a few times.”

“Has she been around
your
maypole?”

He arched his brows, feigning shock. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“And what’s that got to do with you, Zachary Thomas Warner?”

He picked up the hefty law book and aimed it at her. Bertha gave a whoop and sought refuge in the outer office. Laughing under his breath, Zach set down the book and opened the Hastings file. Another divorce, but this one was a bit different. It actually perplexed him. After coming to Guthrie and handling hundreds of divorces, the cases had begun to all blur together. But this one was intriguing.

What happened to Charles Hastings here in the Territory? Was he happily married when he arrived or was he looking for more than land? Did he decide to divorce his wife before or after he met Luna Lee?

Most of the divorce cases in Guthrie had to do with a spouse trying to get shed of a drunk, abuser, or wastrel. Sometimes all three. But Charles divorced a beautiful, well-spoken, well-turned-out woman who was faithful to the marriage and supportive of his journey to rough and tumble Indian Territory to buy up some land.

Instead of sending for her, Charles had divorced her and then taken up with Luna. While Luna was a good looking woman, she wasn’t exactly refined. She had smoothed some of her rough edges, but she was by no means a cultured lady. Although he didn’t think that Jennie was a blue blood or in the upper crust of society, she certainly was educated and resourceful. He had to admit he admired her gumption, arriving here with her young son in tow to stake her claim and make a life for them.

Too bad she was in for a fall. From what he’d seen in those papers, he didn’t think she had prayer, but maybe Adam Polk would see it differently. Adam had been practicing law twice as long as him, although he hadn’t handled as many divorces.

Divorce is what had lured Zach to Guthrie. He’d heard through colleagues that there was quick money to be made representing folks flocking to the Territory for a divorce. He’d left Louisville and arrived in Guthrie to find that he was one of about 100 other attorneys who had the same idea. But he’d done all right for himself, especially after making friends with Adam Polk.

Already holding the view that coupling for a lifetime was a dying ideal, what he’d witnessed for the past year in court had hammered the final nail into that coffin.

Shoving aside the musings, he went to grab his hat off its peg in the outer office. “Bertha, I’m going to check in on your husband.”

“He is on the mend. Don’t need to worry about him, Zachary.”

He smiled and sent her a wink. “Lock the door when you leave, will you? I’m going fishing.”

The day was bright with spring sunshine. Wagons loaded with building supplies rolled along Harrison Avenue, hogging the street and making horses, buggies, and surreys bob and weave around them. Zach moved quickly toward the horse he’d tethered at the side of the law building.

“Whoa, Mercy,” he said to the chestnut mare as he grabbed the reins and swung into the saddle. He reined her onto the street and set her at a fast walk, south toward a cluster of houses, one of which was claimed by Adam and Bertha Polk. When he passed the Harrison Hotel, he tried to see inside to perhaps catch another glimpse of Jennie Hastings, but it was too dark in there to see anyone.

He turned the horse onto a street fronting some newly built homes. Nearly everything in Guthrie was newly built, but these residences still smelled of fresh lumber. Adam and Bertha had moved into their pretty, little cottage only a couple of months ago. More were being built in the next block. They couldn’t build them fast enough as more people settled, opened businesses, and sought their fortunes in the frontier town.

He looped the reins around a sapling in the front yard and bounded up onto the porch where four rockers waited for visitors. Zach tapped lightly on the screen door before opening it and going on in.

“Adam? Where are you?”

“In the kitchen. Come on back,” Adam answered in that tenor-pitched, sing-song way of his.

Zach strode across the thick rug, through the parlor, and into the bright kitchen. Adam sat at the table before a bowl of soup. The steam from it fogged up his glasses.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Want some vegetable soup? Bert made it and it’s quite tasty.” He motioned to the cook stove. “Ladle you some out into a bowl and join me, why don’t you?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Zach selected a bowl and filled it almost to the brim with the hot soup. It smelled of tomatoes and barley. Green beans, corn kernels, and peas floated to the top. He poured himself a glass of water from the big pitcher sitting on the sideboard. “Where are your offspring?”

“At school. It hasn’t let out yet. Junior is working at the courthouse.”

“When does he set off for college?”

“Not until September.” Adam glanced at him. “I guess you decided to stop by to talk about the Hastings divorce,”

“I did.” Zach sat across from him, blew at a spoonful of soup, and then tucked into the meal. The broth was flavorful, making him realize he was as hungry as a bear. Breakfast had been a cup of coffee and a butter cookie, eaten on the run as he had darted to the courthouse to file motions and meet with clients.